


Nymphs and their Charms

by theangrywarlock



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Courfeyrac being Courfeyrac, F/F, Grantaire's rants, M/M, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrywarlock/pseuds/theangrywarlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cosette and Eponine reunite and fall in love before Marius even enters the picture. And then Marius enters the picture, and Courfeyrac (and Grantaire and Bossuet) is the Least Helpful Person Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nymphs and their Charms

They weren't the sort of couple who enjoyed radiant spring afternoons. The sun took its toll on Eponine's skin if she lingered outside for longer than was necessary, and Cosette's paleness made her burn too easily. They sought peace in the moonlight, enjoying Cosette's garden, with Cosette helping Eponine to read the lyrical poetry in her books, and Eponine helping Cosette sometimes escape her garden. They had the beauty of flowers all around them, but neither could deny the wildness in their nature. Eponine's was passionate. She longed to break loose, free of all leashes that could bind her, and yet she sought security with Cosette. Cosette's wildness was more quiet, more spiritual. She loved to be kept safe, and yet she adored the times when she would be able to run about the darkened streets of Paris, relying upon Eponine as her guide.

They spoke little of the past and a great deal of their future. Cosette talked about her father, a man who offered her comfort, warmth and love. Eponine talked about her siblings, the farouche nature of Gavroche and the unassuming, submissive Azelma.

Their relationship wasn't always so sublime. In the beginning, Cosette was starved for a friend. She offered Eponine dresses and other items in order to try and keep Eponine close. Eponine misinterpreted the gifts, claiming that she wasn't a charity case. It was a strange closeness that blossomed between them, one borne of desperation and pride that gradually transformed into a completion of self.

Marius saw Cosette within the park. He had never fancied a woman before, their smiles and laughter sounded a bit too much as though they were mocking him. He kept himself to himself, preferring to focus on matters of the mind rather than the heart. He needed to get money. He needed to prove himself.

Cosette wasn't having much to do with the man who was still trying to find himself. Eponine, however, could recognize a lost soul.

She also had no issues eating said lost soul's bread. "Yes, Monsieur Marius. I'd be happy to find out what you need to know."

And so an uncommon friendship was struck up, and Eponine guided Marius to Cosette's garden.

It was that meeting that saw Marius back within the Musain, morose and brooding within his corner with no mind for politics.

He had chosen the wrong corner.

"Oh, what lurks behind a woman's head? That is one of life's greatest mysteries. Does she think of what a man thinks of? Perhaps you've got a Helen who will settle for starting wars! There are plenty of reasons to indulge in those matters if you listen closely enough. Be careful, Pontmercy, lest you fall into a role that you should never play. Sweep her off her feet, and her father will send all he has at you. Better that she then be petty and selfish as that can rub a father the wrong way. But better that she not be so rebellious as Antigone can tell you. Rebels always come to a bad end. You would best be letting the entire affair run itself into the ground. Ah, but has she taken a notice to you as well? You must be aware of the consequences of obtaining a woman's heart, especially if it's in secret. She would pine, she would long, she would look at you with sorrow as you kept your eye to the far horizon, or in your case, to your old dusty tomes. And then, when you finally decide that it's time to move on, she will see your departure as abandoning, and oh, will she weep! Not for you, but for what could have been. Watch out for when that weeping ceases, dear Pontmercy, as she will, no doubt, come after you with all the pure raw force of hell. Have you stumbled upon your Dido or will she wait patiently for you like dear old Penelope?

"No matter, really. It's not as though you'll be able to land yourself a female. You have a certain lack within your personality, you see. You think too much, and that is your problem. You consider yourself too highly, and you end up thinking and never doing. Hence why you're here, lost in thought, and fully aware that she could well be slipping through your fingers, taking up with another gentleman of much higher standing. Or perhaps she has loftier ideas in mind and won't give of herself until that ring is upon one dainty finger. Here's your solution then! Buy her a ring, any old ring, and slip it upon that finger. When she asks what it means, tell her your heart. Tell her your soul. Tell her anything but the truth, that you got the ring due to a debt or that you nicked it from another lady of higher standing. One that would more easily fall into your bed than her. What does it matter where it came from?

"Is she just another pretty face to you? You should beware of the pretty ones. They're muses for a short while, invigorating you with song and dance and inspiration. You could paint murals devoted to their beauty and, if you're lucky, their wisdom. But often times, when you're in the middle of creating such a debonair work of art, they will rip off their faces and reveal the snakes within, and oh, how they will cackle! They'll cavort and tear your mind into madness. Before long, your landscape will look like the Inferno, and all you want to do is run. Run from their terrifying presence and into the arms of sanity, or at least some quiet. What quiet won't do for some peace of mind!

"So perhaps it is better that you do not have this female upon your arm. That you look so gloomy. They you're wearing mourning black instead of anything bright. That way, you can avoid such duress and trespasses. You can have your melancholy, as is a man's right. You can even have your quietness. Here, let us celebrate the quiet! Another bottle for you and another two for me, and we shall have our own bachelor party at this table! Let us not be swayed by the pretty faces of the women today or tonight! Let us be swayed by them probably in the morning, when we have the entire day to breathe, and to indulge in careless merry! Ah, is she blonde, Pontmercy? Is her hair golden as the sun? For they can often be the worst creatures to tempt man."

"No," Marius sighed. "She is a lovely brunette."

"So much the better for you! For blonds are high-maintenance. They ask for too much. They require a great deal of love and treatment for their high-minded ideals. They will ask such things of you, things you'd never dream of giving, but I'm betting it's all worth it in the end. When they look at you and smile, and your world feels all the brighter, until they look away and the world dims, and suddenly they're talking to another man with foolish looking glasses, and-"

"Grantaire," Courfeyrac interrupted. "You are drunk."

"Half drunk, my dear friend! Only half as Marius has less money than I do, and is even less inclined to spend that upon the nectar that could cheer him up and solve his problems."

"They'd solve his problems if you stopped drinking all that he ordered," Bossuet cut in as he flicked aside the newspaper. "And right now, his problem may be your rambling about his problems."

"I have trouble letting things go," Grantaire admitted. "Such as a grand topic of discussion or the neck of this bottle."

"And I'd be a poor friend indeed if I told you to release the latter. You're starting to become amusing."

"Amusing, am I? Perhaps then I shall try and work my humorous charms upon a blond." So determined, Grantaire stood up and was about to make his way over to another table when Courfeyrac caught him by the shirt.

"Patience. One problem at a time." Courfeyrac said, hoping to keep Grantaire from a potential embarrassment and an even larger potential of travesty. "Let's focus on Marius. He is still a recruit. We owe him our attention."

"You're just interested in the female. Especially since she seems uninterested in our dear Marius," Bossuet supplied. He looked at their somber friend. "So tell us her name. Tell us your dilemma."

So Marius outlined all that he knew about her. "I went to her garden, and she was beautiful. Standing amongst the flowers, blending in with them all from her hair to her dress to her skin. She could twirl and it would resemble a rose coming to life."

Grantaire was hastily scribbling down a few words.

"So what did you say to her?" Bossuet asked.

"If she would be mine."

Courfeyrac scoffed. "Trust you to sound possessive and not at all romantic. Tell me you weren't so blunt, Marius! Give me some faith in you."

Marius' cheeks reddened. "I didn't know what else to say."

"That she was beautiful! That she resembled a flower!"

"That didn't occur to me to speak. I stuttered a little, but then she laughed. Not playfully but almost sadly."

"A sad laugh. Not a good sign." Bossuet clapped Marius on the back. "And then?"

"And then she asked me if Eponine was there."

"Who?"

"Eponine. She's a girl who stays in the room next to mine. She's the one who told me the way to Cosette."

"Ah, the plot thickens," Courfeyrac chimed. "A third member enters this mysterious debacle."

"Enjoy it however you like. Talking to Marius and getting all the facts is like pulling teeth. Only with vast pauses in between to let you get used to the pain."

Marius shot Bossuet a look, but Courfeyrac only laughed. Grantaire nudged Marius with his arm, causing a bit of his drink to spill. "So now you have two birds to choose from? What does the great hunter do?"

"I told Cosette that Eponine was there. She said, 'Oh, how delightful!' And then she left."

The three friends sat there, waiting for more. When it was clear that none would be delivered, Courfeyrac said, "And then?"

"And then nothing! She just ran out of the garden with Eponine. I was left standing there!"

"Ah, nymphs!" Grantaire took a long swig from his bottle. "How merrily they dance. How tinkling are their voices! They make their living on depriving the male of his wits, his ways, and his common sense. Best to let them go, Pontmercy. Best to let them have their freedom. If you try to cage a nymph, you must be ready to destroy yourself and your sanity."

Bossuet just laughed. "Hardly nymphs. Perhaps they're just very good friends."

"Good friends or not, I should like to watch their dance that Grantaire described!"

The three friends laughed at their own jokes, leaving Marius to put his head upon the table and wish he could have just kept his romantic dream of his dear Ursule.


End file.
